


The Lost Royal| Book 1: N'Jadaka

by richniggahoseok



Category: Black Panther (2018)
Genre: Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-13
Updated: 2018-06-11
Packaged: 2019-05-06 09:04:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 5
Words: 3,441
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14638572
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/richniggahoseok/pseuds/richniggahoseok
Summary: A/N: Officer Bitch Ass Ryan needs his fucking ass beat. Erik goes back to school in the next chapter. And this is definitely not the last time we see Jamal nor Ryan. Tell me what you think!





	1. CAST

##  **CAST**

**Seth B. Carr as N’Jadaka/Erik Stevens**

**Sterling K. Brown as N’Jobu**

**Thandie Newton as Erica Stevens**

**Chosen Jacobs as Andre**

**Quvenzhane Walis as Layla**

**Viola Davis as Mrs. Stanford**

* * *

##  **WARNINGS**

**Violence**

**Mentions of Suicide**

**Mentions of Drugs**

**Adult Language**


	2. Disclaimer

Okay, so this book will basically be a anthology series of Killmonger’s past from his father’s death leading all the way to where we were first introduced to him in the London Museum in BP. [ **Yes, this is inspired by this tweet.**](https://twitter.com/Litwltch/status/974872667345047552)

The Lost Royal will have 3 parts two it.

**Book 1: N'Jadaka**

**Book 2: Erik Stevens**

**Book 3: Erik Killmonger**

Got it?

“N'Jadaka” will be his childhood. “Erik Stevens” will be his teen/early college years. “Erik Killmonger” will be once he enters the military/CIA.

This book is very, very,  **VERY**  Mature. There will be violence, sexual content, and drug usage. You’ve been warned. And of course, Adult Language.

I don’t have a specific date on when this is coming but just know that its COMING. 

I hope yall like this.


	3. Prologue | The Troubled Kid

****

**10.** The age I was when my father was killed by his own brother and my uncle, T’Chaka. 

 **9.** The number of therapy visits my foster parents forced me to attend. 

 **8.**  A count of all my close friends before everything went downhill. 

 **7.**  The number of minutes it took for the police to show up at my father’s apartment. 

 **6.**  The number of fights I’ve been in Elementary School.

 **5.**  The number of Foster Homes I’ve been in. 

 **4.**  Times police officers asked me if I had any other family I could live with. 

 **3.**  The number of friends that died before reaching 7th grade. 

 **2.**  The number of bullets that were in the first gun I’ve ever held. 

 **1**. A Prince’s Ring, attached to a shiny gold necklace, that held more history to it than anyone could imagine. 

* * *

Everything was taken away from me. 

Everything I cherished. 

Everything I love. 

Some felt bad for me. “The troubled kid”, they’d call me. The kid who was forced to live a life in the foster system. The kid whose mother got locked up for speaking her mind. The kid who always gets into fights. The kid that…..didn’t ask for any of this. But, like the police officer who drove me to the station whispered, thinking I couldn’t hear, said:

**“Everybody dies, that’s just life ‘round here.”**


	4. Boys Like Me

The first thing I can say that describes how I feel right now is…. _Lightheaded_. I’m in the back of a police car, going to the police station, minutes after I found my father’s dead body sprawled out on our apartment floor. My Uncle James was no where to be found. The officer that’s driving glances at me in the mirror a couple of times, the woman officer that sits in the passenger seat looks back and put her hand on my knee, nodding slightly. I’m guessing that’s supposed to be an act of sympathy. 

I continue to look outside the window as we drive through Oakland. I already know we’re going back to LA. Why else would this ride be this long like this? 

“Man, this neighborhood….” The man driving mumbled to the woman, catching my attention. He had been silent for most of the ride. “It seems like shit like this happens everyday around here.” The woman taps his arm, flickering her eyes at me. “Watch your language. The boy is sitting right behind us.” She whispers to him. He looks at me in the mirror again, I quickly look back out the window. Waving me off, he spoke again. “He’s not listening.” He responds, the woman shaking her head. “Still, John. Ease up on the commentary and just drive to the station. The kid just lost his father for god’s sake.” She fired at him, turning towards me. “Hey kid, you alright?” She asks me. I don’t answer, instead I just stare at her. 

The driver scoffs. “Hey, its okay, you don’t have to talk. I understand. Just wanted to make sure you were okay back there.” She says turning back in her seat. I’m confused for a second. How does she understand?  _Was her father killed too? In her own house? In the middle of the night?_  My hard stare turns soft at her kind words but quickly goes back to stone once he speaks again. This time in a whisper, a low one. He’s saying something that he doesn’t want me to hear. “He’ll be fine. The kid just got taught a lesson a little early.” He says, pausing.  **“Everybody dies. That’s just life around here.”**

But what the smart ass officer doesn’t know is, the police cruiser is dead silent. Meaning everything can be heard.  _Everything_. The woman slowly looks at him with a look of irritation and disgust. I’m still looking out the window, but now my eyebrows are furrowed. The rest of the ride is quiet. I lean my head against the window. The officer’s sentence repeating in my head. 

_“That’s just life around here.”_

* * *

“Okay, Erik? That’s your name right?” A new officer asks me. I give them a small nod. “Okay, we’re going to have you sit in the waiting room. Officer Stanford will be back to lead into one of our rooms. It’ll-” For the first time in what might’ve been hours, I speak. “Rooms?” I said, my voice raspy as I cut the officer off. He nodded. “Don’t worry. She’s just gonna ask you some questions about the events that happened tonight.” He says. I look down at the ground in response. He awkwardly leaves. 

Minutes past before there’s a loud yell coming from the entrance. Everyone’s, including mine, attention turns toward the voice. A black man wearing a black t-shirt, a gold chain, and baggy jeans is pushed into the room by two officers. Both white men. The man is handcuffed and still yelling. “Man, get the fuck off me!” His voice booms through the room. I grabbed onto both my chair’s arms, sitting up slightly as the man gets pushed in the waiting room. “Shut the fuck up.” One officer tells him, coldly. They push him into a seat, coincidentally, the seat that seats directly across from mine. After forcefully, handcuffing him to the chair, the officers shake their heads before walking off. Everyone goes back to minding their business. Everyone except me. 

It takes the man sometime to calm down. A couple of  _“bitch ass niggas”_  and  _“fucking pigs”_ later, he’s silent. He looks at the ceiling for a moment, inhales deeply before bringing his head down. He’s eyes landing on me. I awkward stare back at him, tensing up. He scoffs at me before shaking his head. 

“Whatchu doing here, lil nigga?” He asks. I jerk my head forward and point to myself. He lets out a small laugh. “Yeah you, the fuck?” I clear my throat. “M-my father…..” I trail off. My hands starts to tremble as I grip on the arms of the chair harder. “My father is…d-dead…..” I mumbled to the man. He slumps his shoulders and sits back. “Damn, bruh.” He says. My chest starts heaving and my eyes start to sting again. 

“They’re not going to help you.” The man says to me, breaking the silence. “All they gonna do put you in that room, ask you a whole bunch of questions you don’t wanna answer and be done with you.” My breathing is back to normal know and my hands have stopped shaking. I raised my eyebrows. “H-how you know?” I asked him. He scoffs again. 

**“Cause that’s what they do with boys like you.”**

I open my mouth to say something but the Officer Stanford cuts me off. “Erik? Come with me, please.” She instructs. I stand up and take one last look at the man before leaving. 

Mrs. Stanford leads into a room with a table in the center. Two chairs are seated by it. “Please, take a seat.” She tells me, pointing to one of the chairs. I listen and sit down quietly. She follows, holding a pen and paper. “Okay, Erik. I’m going to ask you a couple of questions. I want to you to answer truthfully. No lies, alright? This can go quickly if you cooperate.” She says. I just nod. 

“Where were you when it happened?” 

I inhaled deeply before speaking. “I was…playing basketball with my friends.” She nodded. “Is that why they were all outside when we arrived?” I nodded. “Erik, you’re going to have to speak u-” “Yes.” I said, a hint of attitude in my voice. She jerks her head back but continues. 

“Are you sure you don’t have any family you go to?” 

I hesitate before shaking my head. Like I said, Uncle James was no where to be found. Mrs. Stanford sighed, her eyes flickering to my necklace. “What’s that?” She asks, pointing to it. I tensed up and looked down at it. “N-nothing.” I said, my voice louder than before. She tilts her head. “Well, it obviously means something if it got you to speak up like that.” I grabbed the ring tightly. “May I see it?” She added, starting to reach over the table. I immediately backed away. The chair making a loud screech on the floor. 

 **“NO!”**  I yelled, surprising not only myself but her also. 

Putting her hands up in surrender, she nodded her head. “Okay. Okay, I won’t touch it.” She rushed. I let go of the necklace. Bringing my chair back to the table, I looked down. “I’m sorry….” I mumbled. She reached over the table again, not reaching for the necklace but for my hand. I didn’t protest. She put her hand over mine and sighed. “I know, Erik. Its okay.” She said, softly. 

There was a silence before she started to write again. “You know, I lost my father when I was young too.” She said. I snapped my head back at her. “He was shot and killed when I was 12. Me and my mom had to make it on our own.” She continued. I nodded. “….my mama in jail.” I told her. “Really?” She pondered, leaning forward in her chair. “Do you know why?” 

“My daddy said it was because the police didn’t like her.” 

Mrs. Stanford sits back in her chair for a second, clears her throat and goes back to writing. “What’s gonna happen to me after this?” I asked her. She froze. Looking up at me, and giving me the same sympathetic look she gave me in the police cruiser, she opened her mouth. “I have no idea, Erik.” I sucked my teeth and nodded. Sitting back in my chair, I look up at the ceiling. “But, I know one thing. I’m going to make sure that you stay safe.” 

I stay quiet and start to think. I think about my dad’s smile as I walk out the house after he said I could go play ball. I think about my friends, and all the questions they were asking. The one thing that bugs me is the strange plane that was in the sky and Uncle James. 

_Uncle James._

He was in the house when I left. It was only him and dad. He was gone when I came back. A deep frown forms on my face and I grab at the ring again, watching it shine in the light. I mumble under my breath. 

**_“Did Uncle James kill Daddy?”_ **


	5. The Move Out

“…huh?” I asked, earning a deep sigh from both officers. “Look kid, we’re going back to your house so you can pack up all of your things. Its still considered a crime scene so, once we get there, it’d be smart to be quick.” One of them explained again. I just nodded in response. I had more questions to ask,  but since it seemed as if the officers didn’t want to be bothered, I just went along with it. 

Where was going after all this? I’ve only heard bad things about Foster Parents. How they abuse their kids and don’t care about them. I don’t want- “Hey kid.” The officer’s voice cuts me off, making me snap my head up at him. “We’re here.” He says pointing to my apartment building. I sighed before reaching for the door handle. “Hey,” The Officer, Mr. Green, said. “I know this is hard for you. So, for your sake, I suggest you get what you need and get it quick. Okay?” 

I nodded before opening the door. “Yes sir.” 

* * *

The walk up the stairs was silent and with every step I took, it felt like someone was putting more heavy weight on my shoulders. Stepping towards my front door to see that it was cracked. I tilted my head and opened it slowly. Not a person in sight. “What the…..” I walked in and took a look around. Everything was still the same. Were they sure anyone had been here? Even Dad’s blanket was still hanging on the wall. 

Wait. The blanket. The wall. Dad’s stuff. 

“Of course…” I trailed off, moving the blanket. The wall was very heavy, but I got it out the way. Dad’s stuff laid on the 2nd to top shelf. I remember him saying that the only time I should look for it was in case of an emergency. Dragging a chair to the shelves, I stood on it and easily grabbed his things. A journal, a small folder, and a shiny chain that seemed to be folded inside the journal. That caught my eye the most. I look at the floor for a second. I can still see his dead body on the ground, though I know its gone. My eyes start to sting and I shake my head. No tears. Grieve in silence. 

Carrying everything to the middle of the room, I sit them on the floor before jogging to the front door, locking it. Just in case those officers decide to interrupt. I came down on my knees and immediately went for the journal. The weight on my shoulders comes back as I turn each page. There’s countless letters in the journal,most in Wakandan letters, but what seemed to be the last one he ever wrote grabs my attention. 

Its in  ** _English_**. I sit down and read it. Slowly. By the time I’m finish my face is wet with tears I didn’t even know had fallen. I don’t wipe them though, instead, I read the letter again. 

_And again._

**_And agai-_ **

“Hey kid!” A voice from outside the door, yells. I gripped the book hard and turn to look. The officers start to bang on the door. I gather everything I need in record time, including the journal. I gently grabbed the metal chain that hung out of it. The king on the other side of the chain, surprising me. “C’MON KID OR WE’LL HAVE TO KICK THIS DOOR DOWN!” They yell again. I try to sound calm but fail as I respond. “Sorry! Here I come!” 

Quickly unlocking the door, walking out, and closing it, I avoided the officers’ confused looks. “Kids man….” One trailed off. I head a faint thud as we walk down the stairs. “The kid just lost his father man. Ease the fuck up.” Officer Green says. I inhale deeply once we’re out the building. “Yo, E?” A familiar voice calls from the basketball court. I turn to see Jamal holding a basketball in his right hand. I glance at the officers for a second, silently asking them if I can talk to my best friend. All they do is nod. I walk over to him and extend my hand out, expecting our signature handshake. His face is still, not mad but….sad? He looks down at my hand, grabs it and pulls me in for a….hug???? I don’t return it, I’m in shock. This was the most affection Jamal has shown towards me  _(or anyone/anything)_  since MJ and the Bulls became the Champs.

“Heard bout ya pops, bruh….” He said, patting my back. “That’s fucked up, yo.” 

I’m hugging him back now. It’s quick and solid. We pull back and look at the ground. “How you holding up, though?” He asks. I shrug my shoulder. “I’m aight. I…..guess…” I say. Jamal knows I’m not telling the truth, I can see it by the way his eyebrows slightly raised up. He doesn’t say anything though. “What you doing with the Feds?” He questions, boldly pointing to them as the leaned against the fence, engaged in their own conversation. “They brought me here to come gets my stuff. I’m….uh-” He cuts me off. “Moving out?” I nod. He does the same. “You coming back to school? Andre and Jaden keep talking bout how you left in the back of a police car. Everybody in class think you in jail.” He explained. I rolled my eyes, remembering that both Andre and Jaden were on the court that night. “Yeah, I’m coming back.” Is all I say. 

“Alright, kid. That’s enough talk. Time to go.” The same officer who banged on the door alarms. Me and Jamal both look over at him. “Okay.” I replied. Jamal sucked his teeth. “Nah, E.” He says, making me turn back to him. “You letting them call you kid? Ain’t you got a name, nigga?” He adds. I tilted my head, opening my mouth to say something but Officer lets-interrupt-everything-erik-does comes up from behind me and roughly grabs my shoulder. “C’mon kid! I said let’s go.” He commands. Jamal intervenes. “Ayo why you keep calling my mans kid? His name Erik.” He fires at him, stepping up to the both of us. 

Officer Green comes up now. I look over at Officer Bad Timing, his left hand is rising to his belt. His fingers are inching closer to his gun. My breathing starts to quicken and so does my heart beat. Jamal was famous for being a hothead who would always get himself into trouble. He once got a 5 day suspension for throwing a textbook at the social studies teacher, Mr. Lubkeman. “Excuse me?” Officer Interruption asked. “Man, you heard me.” Jamal smartly remarked. I shook my head. “Jamal…..don’t.” Is all I mumble. “Oh? You’re a little tough guy, huh?” The officer taunts, stepping closer to Jamal. I step forward but Officer Green stops me. I snap my head up at him, giving him a glare. It takes every bone in my body not to yell  _“AREN’T YOU GONNA DO SOMETHING?!”_  in his face. 

Officer Nosy pushes Jamal, causing him to fall back slightly and me to completely freeze. “You son of a-” Jamal doesn’t finish his sentence before the Officer draws his gun. My jaw drops and Officer Green leaves my side. “Ryan, stop this.” He says. Jamal freezes and is now terrified. “You tough now? Huh, boy?” Officer Ryan asks him, still taunting. I start to shake. This is really happening. In the broad daylight. In front of my apartment building. A day and a half after my father was killed. I close my eyes for a moment before yelling. “STOP! STOP IT PLEASE!” 

Everyone is looking at me now. Officer Ryan still has a frown on his face as he slowly lowers his gun. I let out a breath that I didn’t even know I was holding. “Fuck man………” Jamal mumbles, his voice low but you could hear it crack. I look over at him while holding my chest. I want to hug him but I know that the Officers will stop me. Putting his gun back, Ryan walks away. 

“Get in the fucking car. Now.” Is all he says before leaving. Mr. Green follows behind him, a look of shame on his face. I’m still staring at my best friend. His chest is heaving and he’s looking at the ground with balled fists. “Jamal…..” I trail off, my voice just as low as his. He doesn’t answer me. “I………” I get cut off yet again by a car horn, making us both jump. Jamal looks up, stiffens his back, and sniffs. “I’m good, E…..” Is all he says before walking away, leaving me alone on the basketball court. I ball up my fist and walk back to the car. Slamming the door shut, the car pulls off. 

The rest of the ride is silent and I sit still in the back seat. My eyes don’t leave the back of Officer Ryan’s head. They start to sting again and its not because I’m sad. 

Its because I’m ** _angry._**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Officer Bitch Ass Ryan needs his fucking ass beat. Erik goes back to school in the next chapter. And this is definitely not the last time we see Jamal nor Ryan. Tell me what you think!


End file.
